Switched On or Regurgitating?

It isn't uncommon for me to start up conversations with strangers. If they aren't feeling conversant, or only supply me with a polite acknowledgement, I'll leave them be. Sometimes, however, these little interjections can turn into conversations that last a few hours, bouncing from one topic to another, like a kid jumping in puddles after a storm has passed.

Most of these interactions usually occur in bars, as people are relaxed, happy (and getting happier by the glass!) and not AS cautious of total strangers invading their personal space ‘bubble’. However, there are moments out there in the sober light of the real world, that people are also open to such exchanges.

Whilst I was sitting at one end of a bench seat, another (not unattractive) man at the other, a homeless bloke was doing the Friday pre-peak hour request for spare change. He could barely open his eyes. He passed from me to my fellow bench-sitter and then quickly made his way to a near-by gathering of humanity, after failing to solicit anything from either of us. I looked to my companion, saying, “He’d probably have a little more success if he opened his eyes a bit.” (I knew he wasn’t sight-impaired having been approached by him on numerous occasions, previously). He replied, “Or work for a living, like the rest of us!”

After a brief pause, during which a string of thoughts Warp Factor 9-ed through my mind, I threw another line out there. From the personal development books I have read, I observed that he might actually make a good salesman, seeing that he had already been conditioned in dealing with rejection and knew that it was a numbers game. After various turns, the conversation steered to why my chat-buddy was there, staring down at his phone.

He had just had received some rejection of his own, from his girlfriend. We chatted for a while, and recalling ideas and strategies that I had read about in my books, we talked about how one deals with such rejections, and love in a broader sense. He then said something, which spurred me on to this 500. “You seem like you’re pretty switched on!” Soon after, I had to leave.

So: am I REALLY ‘switched on’? God knows I’ve had little experience with love, but a good deal with rejection. Or was I really just regurgitating ideas and vague platitudes, moulding them to suit the topic at hand? Did they sound like words of wisdom to this young man because he wanted/needed to hear them? Or, as touched on during our conversation, was it just that I was willing to listen, rather than just dismiss it with, “Shit, that’s no good.”, and leave him. Or am I subconsciously modelling the techniques of the personal development gurus, seeing that a lot, if not all, usually rehash core material with their own personal spin on it?

The answers to these questions can be found at my next seminar. Book early to avoid disappointment, this offer is only for a limited time, tickets are selling fast, secure your seats TODAY!

Resignati-a vu and gut lessons

This time last year, there about, I handed my resignation in from my, then, full time job. Whilst at the time I thought I was just going to find another job, it slowly turned into a business idea which would appear to be a good one, from the feedback I’ve received from those I’ve told it to. So I started looking into it, and getting a little background information, checking out websites, talking to those who had started businesses from scratch and had owned their own businesses in the past. And to further validate the idea, I was getting a few jobs along the way, just not under my business, employed under their terms. There was definitely a call for what I was offering. And then my former work asked me to help out, as they were ‘having trouble’ finding someone. So I did that and then both places that I was working at, suddenly told me I was no longer needed as they had found people, or had people return. Suddenly, but not really unexpectedly. I was asked if I wanted to do some kitchenhand shifts, but I declined, knowing the path that would lead down.

Then, there was a time of no work, which I wasn’t particularly worried about. I got some exercise in, rested, and was feeling pretty good. I could imagine that this was what it would be like living the life of financial freedom. Of course, I wasn’t financially free, and the money began to grow scant, but the Universe did provide. Two more temp positions opened up: one for a month and another also for a month, which turned into 6 weeks. And then my former work asked me to help out again, as my replacement was moving on. And so I stepped in once again.

Then it got to the point where the other chef needed a break from having to close every weekend, so I was asked to help out one day there, and then two. Then one of the kitchenhands left suddenly, and they needed someone straight away: “Would you mind stepping in just for a few weeks, one day, until we find someone?” Here, again, I SHOULD have said no. But I didn’t, because I like to help out. And what I thought would happen, began to happen. Even though I was there as a kitchenhand, I was being asked to cook the occasional order while the other chef was having a smoke break. Regardless of what I COULD do, I wasn’t supposed to be there in that capacity. I wasn’t being paid extra money to do extra tasks, I was being paid extra money because I was an immediate and casual fill-in. So I thought. That was well over 6 months ago, and now I’m working 3-4 days a week at the place that I resigned from.

I had lessons to learn, those being: always pay attention to your gut, your instinct. And if you are going to do something to help out, do so with a time frame.

Upfront, and aware?

I would like to address two issues, which are totally irrelevant to each other, but which occurred on the same night, hence the grouping.

The first, and lesser relevant I guess, is the idea of the pre-paid taxi ride. While the concept isn’t foreign to me, having been ‘widely’ (in the loosest terms of the word) advertised within the taxi industry here in Australia, it’s the first time that I’ve actually had it enforced upon me. My taxi ride home, which is more often than not from Sircuit Bar to home, is normally around the $20 mark, and more often than not, I’ll round it up to $25, to give the driver a tip. However tonight, for the first time, I was asked to pay for my taxi ride upfront.  While not a major issue, the upfront fair did actually feel like an upfront and personal judgement on myself, as a person.

I can understand that there are people out there that are likely to fare-evade, and have seen the news items and current affairs articles where taxi drivers have been subject to de-frauding of their fares, at the very least, and their lives taken, at the most extreme, I find it a little insulting that this particular taxi driver decided to charge such fee upon me. Does this mean he made a judgement call on me, or was it a broader judgement call on the venue from which I hailed him from, or was it just a culmination of his experiences in the past, as a taxi driver? As a result, I kept a very close, if not blurry, eye on his speed and his meter. To his misfortune, he only got a $0.60 tip, where he would normally have got a minimum $4.00 tip. (I usually round my fares up to $25.)

On the other subject, and this is more a state of my mind, than that of the people I know: is my presence really missed or noticed? Some straight people (with a token gay), came to the bar that I usually frequent, and due to the position I was standing at, couldn’t but notice my presence as they entered. Naturally, I’d had a drink or two more than they had by the time of their arrival, but after greeting each other, I began to wonder if they even really cared that I was there or not. That then led me to thinking if ANYONE cared if I was there or not. They may note my absence, but I would like to think that on occasion, there are some that would actually care that I wasn’t there; that they would think, or say, “Where did Peter go?”, and not in just a casual, after-thought, kind of way, but with actual caring and feeling. I realise I’m never going to be that person that stands out in a crowd because he is the best looking, or the funniest, or performs that one particular party trick. But it would be nice to think I am missed because I’m me.